Tony Stark's New Groove
by Spherically Adept
Summary: In which Loki is an evil ex-chief adviser, Tony and Bruce have a road trip, and Thor talks to squirrels. Pairings: Friendship!science bros, Playboy!Tony, one-sided frostiron, and eventual Thorki.
1. Chapter 1

Yes, this is an Avengers parody of the Emperor's New Groove. Tony Stark is my new favorite Disney Princess. I regret nothing.

* * *

"Jarvis. My theme song."

"Yes sir."

Tony Stark, the world's one and only genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and _Emperor_ of Stark Industries kicked open the door of his hundred-square-foot penthouse shower. Charisma seeped out of his every pore in perfect harmony to the heavy rock music ripping through the air. _Boom, baby! _

A towel hung stylishly around his hips-everything he wore was stylish by definition-while he paused in front of his expansive windows to give the city a fucking fantastic air guitar show in the nude.

At the bar, Jarvis had already fixed his coffee the way he liked it (two sugars, no cream) and had set the mug next to a stack of documents that Pepper dropped off earlier in the morning. Still in a towel, Tony hip-thrust his way over to his bar, grabbed a pen, gave it a twirl, and brought it to his lips to lip synch the high note. He was just getting to the good part when, all at once, the music cut off so that Jarvis could announce the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

Tony dropped the pen, mildly irritated. "Jarvis, you've really got to work on your timing. You announce guests before they get here because I have fucking eyes to tell me when they do."

"I'm sorry, sir. I will keep that in mind," said his AI in its classy British accent. Most of the people Tony had one-night-stands with tended to start screaming without a care for his fragile hung over mind once morning came; his digital butler needed a sexy voice to compensate.

Tony turned to assume his fabulous intimidating stance: feet apart, arms crossed, and no, he was not flexing, his arms were just that buff. "Coulson," he barked before the other man could even open his mouth to speak, "You just threw off my groove." He raised one eyebrow to ramp up the intimidation while smirking sexily for the fabulous effect.

"Mr. Stark, this matter is rather urgen-"

Fortunately, Jarvis was programmed well enough to recognize when his programmer wanted someone gone. "I'm sorry, Mr. Coulson, but you have interrupted my master's groove." Mechanical arms shot out of the walls and began strapping the poor man into a parachute before he could process what was happening. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to defenestrate you. When in the air, pull the red tag to release the chute. The temperature is 76 degrees Fahrenheit; the weather is sunny. Please enjoy your trip and have a wonderful day." The mechanical arms took only a second to finish their task before grabbing Coulson by the shoulders and launching him out a side window.

"Loki's planning to usurp the company..." Coulson managed to get out before he fell out of earshot.

Tony chuckled to himself and sauntered to the window to watch the large red parachute bearing his name unfold over the cityscape. "You moron, I've known that since the day I hired him. I'm leagues ahead of you, boy. Now, Jarvis, where were we?" A dramatic guitar riff tore through the air and Tony did a turn that would make a professional ballerina sob with jealousy.

Boom, baby.

Some time later, in the immaculate hallways of Stark office building, Pepper was assaulting his right ear in a hurried attempt to simultaneously scold him and debrief of the day's schedule. Tony had already missed the board meeting (surprise, surprise). Besides, he'd only missed it because he had taken his time getting dressed so that he could look presentable for a meeting for once (on the off chance that it was miraculously still in session by the time he arrived, that was). The sleek Italian suit fit better than a glove, emphasizing all the right parts of his marvelous physique. Judging by the number of office ladies that suffered from spontaneous bouts of clumsiness as he walked by, he would say that he just might have a chance with Pepper today.

"...and a Dr. Bruce Banner will be here shortly to talk with you about the new missile testing site."

Reaching his shining mahogany door, Tony swiveled on his heel to press a finger against his secretary's lips. "Pepper, darling, you work too hard; why don't you stop by my place for a drink after work today. I'm sure I can relieve some of your _tensions_."

Pepper rolled her eyes to indicated she understood her boss had not listened to a word she'd said. "Good day, Mr. Stark. I'll be at my desk if you need me."

"Oh, I do need you, beautiful, and not at a desk." Tony called after her retreating hour glass figure, "Unless you like that sort of thing, in which case I shall be most happy to oblige..." He chuckled as she flipped him off.

Upon entering his office, Tony was not too surprised to find his chief advisor, Loki, sitting behind his desk with his hunk of a brother standing dutifully behind him. The two brothers had one of the most confusing family dynamics Tony had ever run up against, which was saying something, considering _he_ was a part of his own family. Obligatory relationships had never been his strong suit. Back on topic. Put safely, Thor let Loki stomp all over him with his heeled designer snakeskin shoes because of _extraordinarily strong _familial love. Right.

Now, morning defenestrations aside, Tony considered himself a laid back sort of guy. His latest psychologist had termed it being "relaxed to the point of error". Loki was also the brilliant employee that combined cruel with cunning to make every deal work out in their favor. But, as much as he hated to do anything about it (partially because it required him to do real work), Tony had to admit that Loki's control-the-company-behind-Tony's-back schtick really did need to stop.

"Hello, my dear fairy-princess with luscious, black curls; whose seat do you think you're warming with your fabulous fat-bubbles of buttcheeks?"

Loki raised an eyebrow to question his mental health but otherwise ignored the jab. His stood up slowly, with dignity, as though he were honoring a request instead of obeying an order. "Flirting with your secretary again? How painfully cliché of you."

"Would you rather I call _you '_beautiful' instead?" Tony waggled his eyebrows as he not-so-subtly ogled Loki's ass. Thor made a gargling noise in the corner. Tony ignored him. He had hired Loki for two reasons: one, the man was a rare genius that reminded him of himself, and two, Loki was eye candy in a thousand dollar suit. No overprotective-to-the point-of-incestuous brother could make him give up his privilege of appreciating his employees' assets. Besides, Thor's eyes weren't focused on anything more appropriate. Loki gave a polite cough to pull the room's attention away from his hips.

Tony sat down and propped his feet up on the table. "I take it you had no real reason for being in my office besides attempting to take my company for yourself, which I must say, would work better if you got rid of me first. Since I'm still here, though, would you be willing to consider my pole dance offer? I'll raise your Christmas bonus by twenty percent."

"How could you think such a thing?" Loki said in a very convincing show of sincerity. "I want nothing more than to help you take this company to heights never before obtained in the weapons industry. And I'm not going to answer your second question."

"That's a damn pity. Your legs would look amazing in heels..." Tony trailed off, a wistful expression dimming his eyes for just a moment. "I can't say I believe your declaration of loyalty but it sounds good when you say it. Thank you. Without further ado then, you're fired." Tony smiled a warm closed lip smile and gestured dramatically at the door as if he were showing Loki into a party rather than telling him to pack up his shit and get out.

If Loki wasn't already paler than the moon, he might have looked as though all the color had drained from his face. But since the guy already looked like an evil mastermind who spent all his time underground scheming, or in Loki's case, practicing "black magic", he just looked somewhat like a shocked Bambi. Maybe how Bambi would look if he watched his mother shot and then turned into barbecued venison.

"What do you mean fired?" Loki grit out. It was rather impressive the way he could talk without parting his teeth.

While he was sure Loki's expression was a reaction to the news of his recent downsizing, Tony couldn't help but feel a bit self conscious under Loki's wide eyed stare. He checked his reflection on his high-gloss polished table top. Nope, still the paragon of attractive. Fixing a stray lock of hair took precedence over answering Loki's question, though, so he put his full concentration into fitting the lock back into his carefully crafted just-got-out-of-bed look. He was a touch disappointed when Loki was still in the room by the time he'd finished.

"Look, it pains me to lose a mesmerizing creature such as you, but how else can I say this? You're being let go; you're no longer needed; we decided not to choose your clever but impossible option; you're being too predictable... take your pick. There's a lot more where that came from but I don't want to hurt your feelings too much."

Loki took a deep breath. "I'm being too predictable?"

Tony laughed and leaned back into his leather upholstery. "I threw Coulson out the window today because he picked up on your 'taking over the company' vibes. If oblivious lapdog can scry your ever present ulterior motive, then you're being too obvious. I hired you to help this company be _less _obvious and you've failed at your job. Accept it, move on, get drunk, I'll extend to you the same invitation I extended to Pepper." Tony paused to take in Loki's horrified expression and considered leaving his small rant unfinished, but fuck all, he was Tony Stark and he had a reputation to keep. "Though in your case, you're going to have to come over so the desk part probably can't happen. I do have a bar, though, if you're really into that kind of thing."

For the first time in his life, Loki found himself without words to rebuff his obviously insane and forever horny employer. "I _will_be back." he hissed and stormed out.

"Hasta la vista, baby" Tony smirked after him.

Thor scrambled to follow Loki out the door like the lovesick puppy he was. He paused to throw Tony an angry glare and a "Anthony Stark, I must warn you _not_to inappropriately address my brother's voluptuous rear in the future. He is quite self-conscious, even if he makes a concerted effort not to show it." before disappearing from sight.

Once the fun had officially run off, Tony found himself quite bored and decided to amuse himself by seeing how many times he could spin in his chair before feeling nauseous. Pepper stuck her head through the door before he could make himself vomit. "Dr. Banner is here to see you." Tony quickly began spinning in the opposite direction in an attempt to clear his head a little.

Dr. Bruce Banner, as Pepper introduced, was a man with a somewhat large build and a penchant for rumpled green clothing. Between him and Loki, Tony had seen enough green to last him the rest of the week. "Ahhhh, you are exactly the man that I've been waiting to see." Tony smiled and turned slightly so that his intensely bleached teeth would catch the sunlight and blind the other man with charm.

"Uh." The man blinked against the glare, "I'm glad? Forgive me, Mr. Stark, for being a bit confused. Your letter wasn't too informative beside the fact that you would do unspeakable things concerning a bomb and a small animal if I failed to show up here."

"My, did I really? Well, details are exhausting. In short, I have a problem and you can fix it. Jarvis, pull up the file." Tony stood and walked to stand next to Bruce as hologram loaded.

"That's my research facility." Bruce observed, "I'm doing experiments concerning biological regeneration. If my experiments succeed, humans may never have to worry about fatal injuries again."

"Yes blah blah. This research facility is in the middle of Uninhabited Nowhere, New Mexico correct?"

Bruce made a face at the name. "I suppose it is. My experiments are potentially dangerous so we tried to build the labs as far away from people as we could."

Tony nodded in understanding. "That's perfect. My problem is solved. Thank you for coming and expect a very large check in the mail sometime in the near future. Pepper will show you to the exit."

Bruce pivoted to face Tony, guarded suspicion in his eyes "What do you want with my lab?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Another blinding smile. "I want to blow it up."

Now Bruce was wearing the Bambi look.

"Here, allow me to demonstrate." Tony tapped a few virtual buttons start the simulated explosions. "You are aware of the fact that I am Tony Stark weapons extraordinaire, correct? Well, I've really outdone myself with my latest missile and it would be too much of a waste to test it on godforsaken empty land. I want to blow up buildings. You have buildings that are privately owned and far away from civilization. Ergo, I want to blow up your buildings. It's kind of my birthday present to me." He beamed lovingly at the hologram "I'm so happy."

Bruce needed to sit down.

* * *

What did I just write? I can't believe I posted that. Anyways, expect an update every 3 days or so? I shamelessly beg for reviews to placate my insecurities.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki was shooting things. Not breathing, screaming things, sadly, but shooting was shooting, and things were still dying, albeit in a digital manner. First person shooter games had never been so pleasurable, especially now that he'd reprogrammed the game so that every target had Tony Stark's head. Thor shared in Loki's grief by sitting quietly on the couch so that his brother could vent his anger in peace. When two hours had passed and Loki had not slowed down in the least, Thor felt that it was time for a family intervention.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Thor ventured, "I saw on the television once that discussing your emotions with your kin ameliorates your frustration."

Loki gave him a look that spoke _I knew you were stupid but I never knew you were __**this**__ stupid _before going back to smash at his gulped and looked away. An entire minute of blissful machine gun fire and dramatic music passed before Thor opened his mouth again. "Loki, simply know that, no matter what may come to pass, I will always be proud of you."

The fart of machine gun fire stopped as Loki froze; once Thor started being sentimental, it was near impossible to make him stop and if there was anything in the world that Loki hated with a burning passion, it was _feelings. _The younger threw down his controls without bothering to pause the game and tried to get out of the room before Thor's comments became too tragic. The thundering idiot talked himself to tears sometimes.

"I'm going to work on my magic. You know the drill." Behind him, Loki heard the springs of the couch give a relieved groan as his meatloaf of a brother stood up. Shit.

"I will accompany you today. Being alone is not good for the psyche after such a misfortune such as losing one's trade or becoming too predictable." Shit on a shish kabob. Loki walked a bit faster.

As always, Thor didn't take the hint. "Father may not be able to lend you his fullest sympathies as you are adopted, but I-"

Loki groaned, his pride smarting terribly, "Why haven't I gotten rid of you yet?"

Mistaking the frustration in Loki's voice for sadness, and giddy with happiness that his taciturn brother had responded so quickly, Thor felt his heart overflow with compassion."Do not berate yourself for my continued presence! You have tried most valiantly to rid yourself of me! Two years ago to this day, you bound me in a sack and threw me in the River of Hudson. I must confess it was a most unpleasant experience but I did not complain because I have an iron beard. Do not let this deed weigh heavy on your conscience, though, for I have long since forgiven you. You are my brother and I love you."

"...right." Talking to Thor really was a lost cause. The pair arrived at the door leading to Loki's "magic" room and he punched in the pass code and pushed the door open. A cavern of yawning darkness awaited them; a bad sign for anyone who's ever watched a horror film.

"What do you actually do in this place, brother?" Thor asked, scanning the darkness apprehensively. One of his only secrets was that he still slept with a nightlight. It was in the shape of a manly hammer.

Loki decided to be truthful for once. "I turn small animals into different small animals and then I crush their heads for stress relief." The look on Thor's face gave the raven-haired man a twinge of sadistic pleasure as he walked into the darkness. "Well, are you coming or not? You were the one who said I shouldn't be alone."

Thor swallowed and puffed up his chest like a blowfish. His brother needed him. That was reason enough to brave a hurricane. By the time he'd worked up his courage, however, said brother was no longer visible, which is probably the reason why he couldn't tell that the door actually led to a set of descending stairs. Half a minute later, Thor lay sprawled on the basement floor on top of a very angry brunette. Loki shoved him off with an elbow to his stomach.

"I apologize, brother." Thor said as he pushed himself up, winded, "but perhaps you should have turned on the light before we came in."

Loki chose not to point out the fact that the light switch was at the bottom of the stairs.

The basement had been converted into a high-tech, mad scientist's chemistry lab. Bright green liquid bubbled and seethed in all manners of glass lab ware over the hum of sterile machinery. A ball python lay coiled in a glass tank opposite a wall of caged rabbits. The scene contradicted Thor's every expectation about the rumored "magic" room. There wasn't an eyeball or herb in sight. "Can you actually change animals into different animals? Does such magic really exist?"

Loki smiled an almost genuine smile. His magic was the greatest of his unpublished and unappreciated breakthroughs. Simply put, he had cracked the secret of genetics. Shape shifting was now a viable option; not "clever but impossible" like that idiot Stark had claimed. This was the reason he deserved to own Stark Industries. Under his guidance, a new era of bio-warfare was within sight.

Instead of answering Thor's question-there was no way the oaf would understand the complex science involved- Loki decided to explain his triumph by demonstration. Grabbing a rabbit by the ears, Loki fed the rodent a drop of the green potion and watched felicitously as it morphed into a large, twitching rat. Before it had a chance to run, he quickly slammed a fist on its head and tossed it into his python's tank. The beginnings of a plan began to swirl in Loki's head as he watched the swell of the rat travel down his python's body. Being evil felt excellent.

After much explaining and many threats of disownment, Thor righteous resolve finally crumbled and acquiesced to his brother's plan 'poison Tony Stark with some unholy chemical compound so that I can take over Stark Industries' plan. The only somewhat logical objection he had raised was the fact that Loki had been fired and therefore probably couldn't take over the company even if Stark was dead. Loki had countered that point with an "irrelevant." His ex-employer had accepted the dinner invitation with enthusiasm, no doubt thinking with his libido again.

Regardless, Thor was preparing dinner in high spirits so all there was left for Loki to do was lock himself in the bathroom to perfect his evil comeback speech. Who knew it was so difficult to make 'ohohoho' sound like foreboding evil laughter and not a choking Santa Claus?

After what felt like hours (and really was just hours) the doorbell was rang. Tony spared the brothers the work of answering the door by kicking it over before either could move.

"Boom Baby! Didn't expect to hear from you again so soon. Just couldn't stand to be apart from me, huh? I don't blame you, if I weren't me, I wouldn't be able to stand being apart from me either. "

Loki grimaced a smile at Tony's suave smirk and gestured toward the dining room. "Dinner's almost ready. Why don't you come in and have a drink first?"

"Sounds great. Hope you have something potent. I simply do not feel like being sober tonight."

Loki rolled his eyes. He could do that openly now that he no longer had to worry about being fired. "When do you ever?"

Tony laughed, "Good point." The shorter of the two clapped his hand down on Loki's shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. "Now lead me to the grub. I can drink more if I have some food down my stomach first."

The table looked like something out of a food magazine, the _Thanksgiving_edition. Every dish steamed in its perfection, the colors as vibrant as the air-brushed silicone-coated ads on restaurant menus. Tall candles flickered in silver stands. Thor himself was a caricature of a loving grandmother in his frilly pink apron and oven mitts.

Tony took a seat at the head of the table-because really, what other spot was worthy of his greatness?- and gave a slow impressed whistled. "Thor, I did not know you had it in you. This looks delicious."

The chef's face lit up like a brushfire in a desert during a drought. Living with Loki meant compliments were few and far between. The last time the brunette had had a positive reaction to eating was when his cat ate Thor's goldfish back when they were children. Fond childhood memories.

"Do not restrain yourself, Anthony Stark! There shall be no calloused sentiments at the table tonight." Thor boomed happily, not even wincing when Loki dug an elbow painfully into his ribs. "Oh, right. Where are my manners? Mr. Stark, you must be thirsty. Allow me to get you a drink."

At the head of the table, Tony watched, bemused, as Loki nonverbally screamed at his adoptive sibling. Either he was killing something or he really wanted a garden, Tony couldn't really tell. Thor's face darkened at the pantomime and marched into the kitchen. He emerged a little while later with a platter holding three glasses of wine and a small plate of slightly burnt spinach puffs.

"Did nobody smell them burning?" he asked sadly.

After making sure the spinach puffs were still palatable, Thor set about to distribute the drinks. He bent down to whisper in Loki's ear as he passed along a glass, "I knew not which glass you preferred to give Mr. Stark so I took the liberty of poisoning them all. Do not drink it."

Loki turned his head away so he could roll his eyes without making his victim suspicious. At least Thor thought far ahead enough to warn him.

"A toast-" Loki began... and then stopped as Tony had already drained his glass and was currently lying face down on his plate in a little puddle of drool. The brothers stared dumbfounded for a moment, "Well, that was easy."

The words were scarcely out of Loki's mouth when Tony sat up, seemingly oblivious that anything had happened. "You don't say. That was excellent wine. Don't bother offering me another glass though, Thor; just bring me the whole bottle. It'll save you a _lot _of walking."

Thor was now dumbfounded and more than a little panicked but he walked back to the kitchen for the bottle anyways. Loki sat in his chair looking constipated.

Very few things in life have been genuine surprises but the Tony's face stretching into a muzzle definitely qualified. Loki tried to prevent his face from betraying his shock. Last time he'd done that, Tony had checked his reflection, and Loki was pretty sure his ex-employer did not want to see the state of his face at the moment.

Thor returned with the bottle of wine just as the transformation reached completion. Before he could scream or even look horrified, Loki grabbed the bottle from his hands and shattered it on the now-large-dog Tony's head. Tony collapsed back into his puddle of drool.


	3. Chapter 3

Half an hour later, Thor was running as fast as he could down a long flight of stairs carrying a heavy, oversized suitcase containing the unconscious Tony. Thor had apologized profusely for his mix up ("Forgive me brother, perhaps you could make your potions different shades of green in the future?" Loki had slowly and purposefully stepped on his spinach puffs in reply). Together, they had stuffed Tony into the largest suitcase they owned. Thor had been positively giddy that the task almost qualified as quality time between the two of them. Afterwards, Loki had ordered Thor to take Tony somewhere dark and mysterious to dispose of him. Thor wasn't sure why Loki didn't just kill the human-dog himself as he was the one who bore the grudge but there hadn't been time to argue.

The whole affair didn't sit well with him though. Murder was murder no matter what shape the victim was in.

Thor carefully set the suitcase down and peered around the corner of a wall. He wasn't a particularly creative person so he reckoned that he would dispose of Tony the same way Loki tried to dispose of him two years earlier. That meant, however, that he had to travel some ways down a rather busy street. New York was a strange city where strange people often did questionable things in public, but Thor was still a bit self conscious at having to lug the large suitcase down the sidewalk with him. Why he hadn't thought to drive instead was beyond him.

Taking a deep breath to steady his self esteem, Thor grabbed the handle of the suitcase and proceeded to step onto the open sidewalk, rolling it behind him. Many people turned to stare. Towering at six feet six inches in his frilly, pink apron and bunny slippers, Thor made quite the sight.

Thor could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he eased his way around hot dog vendors and drunk college students in the street. The crime he was committing made his palms all slippery and the fact that he looked like a hobo grandma in drag wasn't helping. He jumped a few feet-he was tall, ok?-when a police siren started blaring from behind him. The fact that police really suck at detecting crimes before they happen and therefore couldn't have known what he was doing, did little to ease Thor's panic as siren drew closer.

He looked around frantically trying to find a place to hide when he spotted a man in a green jacket standing on the edge of the sidewalk beside a large suitcase that looked almost identical to the one he was carrying. As the stranger turned to take a call, Thor planted his suitcase next to his and dove into a convenient alley. In his head, Thor mentally chanted _I am a brick, I am a brick, I am a brick, _in a ninja attempt to blend in with the wall behind him.

After what seemed like ages, the siren finally passed and Thor poked his head out of the alley way. The stranger in green had hailed a cab and was currently talking to the driver. Running like his life depended on it, Thor dashed out of the alley, grabbed the suitcase he was fairly sure belonged to him (it was heavy enough), and like the hobo-grandmother-bowling-ball he was, careened down the street knocking over everything in his path.

It was still half an hour later before Thor finally arrived at the edge of the quiet, dark river. All along the way, he had been composing a prayer in his head. He'd never prayed before, but since he couldn't exactly get a preacher to preside over his little water burial, he figured he'd have to shoulder the responsibility. Nobody deserved to die without a prayer and Tony was hardly capable of saying one himself.

He laid the suitcase down gently and gave a few fond pats to where he supposed Tony's head would have been. The suitcase clunked rather metallically under his palm. Confused, Thor quickly unzipped the top of the suitcase and stared in horror at the mechanical parts padded by wads of Scooby Doo underwear and socks. He stumbled back a few steps from the offending suitcase and rubbed his eyes. The underwear stubbornly refused change into the dog he was supposed to be disposing of.

Though he wasn't sure if it was religiously proper and whatnot, Thor quickly revised the prayer that he had thought to say for Tony. "Oh my fucking god; please save me from Loki," he muttered reverently under his breath. He directed his prayer at that particular god because on a scale of 1 to 10, he was fucked.

Thirteen hours later, a thoroughly exhausted Bruce unloaded his heavy suitcase from the back of his heavy-duty, masculine pick-up, his only concern being that the machinery he'd bought wasn't damaged on the flight. Back in his bedroom in the research facility-call him a workaholic, but he couldn't afford to drive home every night- Bruce gingerly set the suitcase on the floor. It was a good thing he'd been careful, too, because the suitcase _moved_. A pained whimper filtered through the thick cloth of the suitcase followed by an "Goddamn it, I am Tony fucking Stark. I will make whatever motherfucker _pay_for making me fly fucking baggage." Bruce practically ripped open the suitcase, took one look at the seemingly bloodstained talking dog inside, and fainted.

Sunlight was streaming through the windows by the time Bruce woke up, a migraine already building behind his eyes. Something felt off about the room and he was momentarily confused as to how he had fallen asleep fully dressed and with _one_shoe on. A scuffling noise floated up from the floor and Bruce begrudgingly sat up to investigate. Once he'd located the source of the noise and remembered all that had transpired the night before, he really wished he could faint again.

The super-sized golden retriever from the suitcase was lying at the foot of the bed gnawing his other shoe. Well, that solved one mystery. Bruce stared at it mutely for a while. If his memory was correct, the dog had claimed to be the man who wanted to destroy his life's work for shits and giggles. All his rigorous schooling and life experiences failed to prepare him for absurd social situations such as this, so, for lack of a better alternative, Bruce cleared his throat to announce his presence to the room. The dog stopped tearing at the shoe and brought it protectively towards its chest.

"...no, you can't have it back."

Bruce closed his eyes and swallowed. So he hadn't been wrong in remembering that dog spoke with the voice of the devil incarnate. "Um," he said intelligently.

The dog rolled its eyes, "This isn't the time to be tongue-tied, fat man. Let me fill you in on what just happened. You, my friend, have turned the infamously famous Tony Stark into a dog which you then kidnapped by making him fly baggage. I think that qualifies as like a class zero felony or something. If I were you, I'd have my will typed up and in a sealed envelope, on its merry way to a fucking lawyer or something because you just made enemies with the guy who literally invented the meaning of firepower. Any last words?"

"Um, I didn't do it?"

The dog, Tony, gave him an incredulous look. "Is that a question? What didn't you do? Turn me into a dog? The evidence is kind of hard to refute. Kidnap me? I'm no Toto but judging by the trees outside the window, I don't think we're in New York anymore." He paused for a moment, thinking, "or Kansas for that matter; distinct lack of hillbilly smell." He shook his head to clear it of distractions, " Anyways, where was I. Right." Tony resumed his accusatory tone, "Make me fly baggage? I still have the suitcase marks pressed into my side. Give it up, big guy," he flipped his metaphorical hair and then grinned his signature, winning smile (which now looked downright feral but hey, he had yet to have a chance to rework his facial expressions in a mirror), "I win."

Despite the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, Bruce could feel his patience waning. Tony- and judging by the amount of pleasure the dog seemed to derive from its own voice, there was no longer any doubt that it was indeed Tony Stark in canine form- was seriously beginning to irritate him. And although Bruce was usually a pretty cool guy, he had his limits. His co-workers had all the windows in the facility replaced with bulletproof glass because he had... issues with limits.

"I didn't do any of those things."

Tony snorted, "Yeah and my penis isn't now retractable. No, seriously. Just fess up, get me back to New York, turn me back to my glamorous self and I'll be mercifully quick when I detonate my missiles to fry your premises."

Bruce felt a vein pop in his neck. Limit issues. "No, really. I don't know how to turn anyone into an animal. This whole thing is a mistake, a misunderstanding. I have no idea why you're not in a hot tub up north, drinking tequila with a half dozen cheap women."

Tony scrunched his nose. "Ew, you drink tequila? Now that's just nasty. Scotch is the one and only heavensent way to get hammered. Really now, take me back to New York. If you can't change me back, I'll get my fairy princess Loki to do it."

Bruce stood up. Sat down. And closed his eyes again. Breath, Bruce, breath. The limit of 1/x as x approaches zero is infinity. That's your limit, Bruce, infinity. You are 1/x. You _are_.

Tony tried to raise an eyebrow. A difficult feat, considering he no longer had eyebrows. "Well, I'm waiting."

Thinking about math was therapeutic and Bruce calmed down enough to give a decent response. "I should have you neutered."

A few minutes later, Tony was wandering the whitewash halls of the research facility looking for an exit because he did _not_ have castration anxiety. He had too many balls for those kinds of petty fears. If his kidnapper wasn't going to take him back to New York, he would have to find his own way back. He was one hell of a fine dog and he'd seen enough dog flicks to know that dogs can find their ways back home, no matter how far away they were taken. Either that or Disney was lying, and Disney _never _lied.

It took longer than it should have to get out the door, not because he couldn't find one, but because it opened inwards and he no longer had any sort of fingers. Stepping outside was... strange. It had been years since the last time he'd gone anywhere that even resembled the great outdoors as nature intended it. How could trees grow so densely without getting their branches tangled up? Was that even a problem they had to consider?

He vaguely remembered bouncing in the bed of a truck for an hour or two the night before so it was probably a good idea to find a road and follow it to the nearest town. Then he could command some little nobody to fly him home. Foolproof.

But damn, the driveway was long.

Tony had gotten maybe a hundred yards before a peculiar scent filled his nose and made his hackles rise. The response was an ancient instinct. His muscles tensed in preparation to sprint; adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream. There was only one possible stimulus that could elicit this kind of reaction:_ squirrel. _

His nose zoned in on the rodent before his eyes did. Getting home could wait; there was a squirrel to be caught. Tony barked once, then ran, his newfound predatory instincts taking over. The squirrel snapped to attention and narrowly avoided being caught in his vice-like his jaws by scampering up an oak tree.

Somewhere, someone screamed, but Tony ignored it. What he didn't ignore was the sharp _crack!_of an acorn hitting him dead center between the eyes. Shit, that hurt. The squirrel came back into sight holding another acorn which it again also threw with devastating accuracy. Tony howled in pain. The squirrel laughed. It tittered at him with its high-pitched, annoying-as-ass, rodent voice.

"You little..." _Crack!_ Tony swerved to avoid the acorn with little success. "Fuck you and your bushy-tailed mother." _Crack!_ "This is war!" _Crack!_Ok, that one really hurt. Tony yelped and leaped back, out of the line of trees. "I'll get you back for this!" He yelled behind him while as he ran. Crack! Seriously, how was the thing following him? "You better be watching the skies from now on, because I will nuke your ass!"

Tony blamed the sharp-shooting squirrel for the fact that he didn't sense a man creeping up on him. The first shot missed him by pure luck. Tony whirled around, surprised.

"Don't move." A trembling, scrawny man in a lab coat ordered. "Don't move a muscle, demon dog. I mean you no harm. I simply mean to end your misery."

Tony froze at the sight of the antique rifle in the man's hands. "Whoa," he began, his earlier rage replaced by caution, "I think we all need to calm down a bit." His words seemed to have the opposite effect from what they should have had because the man started trembling harder than ever. Tony didn't blame the guy. He could feel the dried-blood-colored wine covering almost half his body and it wasn't too common to find talking animals in modern day America. Even so, the man looked much too much like a virgin nerd to be handling any sort of fire weapon. The squirrel chose this moment to land a stinging hit to his butt and Tony jumped, ready to tear a throat out. "You little fucker-"

The second shot missed because Bruce punched the gunman in the face.

Tony felt the hiss of the bullet dangerously close to his face. Swaying a bit on the four columns of jello, formerly known as his legs, he plopped bonelessly onto the ground, breathing fast. A few feet away, he vaguely registered Bruce trying to calm the gun wielding psycho using some nonsense about the limit of 1/x.

By the time he'd calmed down enough to think, Bruce was towering over him. For the first time in his life, Tony had nothing to say.

The scientist was smiling as he sank down to a squat and reached for Tony's head. Tony flinched away reflexively. Bruce sighed. "Alright, this is against my better judgment but I'll take you home."

Tony blinked. "What?" The shock of almost being shot was still scrambling his thought processes.

Bruce sighed again. "I said I'll take you home." He stood up. "Believe it or not, I'd always wanted a puppy when I was a boy. But after I accidentally squished my first one, my parents never let me near a living animal again."

Tony winced at the gory image. "That's, uh, interesting. Completely irrelevant and utterly terrifying, but interesting."

Bruce shot Tony a glare. "Don't you ever shut up? Anyways, you look a good deal harder to squish so if you promise to be the dog I never had, and to not blow up my lab, I'll take you home."

Tony didn't answer just to prove that he could in fact not talk when he chose to. Instead, he stood up and walked on wobbly legs over to Bruce while putting up what he hoped was a really cute dog face. There was no way he was sparing the lab and his pride might never recover from being put on a leash but if it meant getting home without getting shot, he was willing to take the fall. Besides, the way Bruce's face lit up when he'd nuzzled his hand was almost kind of cute.

* * *

Yay, road trip coming up soon~ The next update is probably going to be in two weeks or so because I'm going on vacation and it's hard to write from a national park. Thanks for reading this! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

1997.8 miles away, Loki was on top of the world. Literally. Expensive champagne tasted much better at a cruising altitude of 36,000 feet in a newly "inherited" private jet. He wasn't headed anywhere in particular- just circling the city to celebrate his victory, and wasting jet fuel because now, he could.

He, Loki Laufeyson, had won. Not that he ever doubted it, of course. It was unthinkable that someone with a mental capacity such as his should ever lose to a simpleton such as Tony Stark. Such as the _late_ Tony Stark. Oh, victory never tasted sweeter.

After he had gotten rid of Tony, it had been fairly easy to forge a suicide note and a will to turn the whole company over to himself. No one else had yet heard of his downsizing so no one had questioned the validity of his claim to the metaphorical throne. Well, even if they did, he doubted anyone would vocalize their objections. During his time as chief adviser, Loki had made sure that his deeds and a few convenient rumors ensured that every employee in the company trembled at the very mention of him. Fear far exceeded respect where control was involved.

The funeral had been a downright comical affair, as one of Tony's more bitter one night stands had somehow managed to gather everyone and everything Tony had ever slept with. Pepper had almost had a heart attack just looking at the sheer _crowd_ of people (and a few pieces of paraphernalia) that showed up. It was a miracle that Tony never contracted a serious STD... or a bad case of splinters for that matter. The priest had looked decidedly uncomfortable saying the rites.

Yep, Tony Stark wasn't getting any deader and Loki was going to take full advantage of that beautiful fact. Loki laughed to himself from his insanely comfortable seat and turned to Thor. "Thor, I admit I was a bit worried when you mixed up the poisons, but now that Tony's dead, I'm willing to forgive you." He looked at Thor expectantly, waiting for the gush of gratitude and puppy love that usually followed any short of nicety from him.

Thor made what sounded like a dying pig's last grunt and continued to stare out the window. Loki usually didn't concern himself too much with the feelings of others. It wasn't that he didn't know what they were feeling, he just, more often than not, chose to ignore it. At the moment, however there was no denying that something was off about Thor.

The only other time Thor had ignored his beloved brother in favor of brooding had been when Loki emailed his previous girlfriend a list of mildly exaggerated truths about his and Thor's relationship. In accordance to Loki's plan, she had dumped Thor the next day for having too many brother issues. Thor never needed to know why. It was unhealthy to get that serious about a girl anyways. She was a mewling quim that made Thor all manners of unhappy and the brute had been too stupidly infatuated to notice. Loki did it for his good; he was the only person allowed to compromise Thor's happiness, after all.

Back to the issue at hand. "Thor, is something wrong? I just said that I was willing to forgive you." Loki placed heavy emphasis on the last few words. When his brother still failed to give the expected reaction, Loki reached over and shook him by the shoulder. "Thor."

"Oh, uh." Thor tore his eyes from the window and shook his head a few times. "N-nothing is wrong. Why would you think anything was wrong? Everything is wrong. I mean, everything is right. Right. Right is the opposite of left, but it is also the opposite of wrong. How strange when words do that on some occasions, is it not?" some nervous chuckling, "Which nothing is wrong."

Loki felt his blood run a cold. "Thor, what is wrong." It wasn't a question. The blond man cowered into his seat, confirming Loki's suspicions.

"Where is the dog, Thor?" Thor made a strangled, indistinct noise reminiscent to vocal keyboard smashing. Loki started breathing a little heavier. "The dog is at the bottom of the river, right? Tell me it is. Thor, I need to hear this. Tell me Tony Stark is at the bottom of the river."

Thor flinched at the anger in Loki's voice. "Anthony S-stark may not be quite as deep as the bottom?" he whispered.

Loki let out a roar of frustration, grabbed the bottle of champagne and chugged. "Find him!"

Back in the wild west, a road trip was planned shortly after Bruce realized that no amount of yelling, screaming, or groveling would convince Tony to get back into a suitcase.

"Do you know how much this is going to cost me in gas?" Bruce mumbled from his computer.

"Psh. I'll take care of your petty money problems. Just find the quickest route back and let's get out of here." Tony popped his head over the top of the table to look at the screen. "Besides, it's not even that bad. 1.9 days is pocket change in terms of traveling time."

Bruce snorted, "Google Maps also tells you to paddle across the Atlantic to get to Europe. I'm not sure you should be trusting its time estimates. It's going to take a lot longer than 1.9 days."

"Why? You can't seriously be thinking about stopping to take pictures at every landmark on the way. That is such a nerd hobby that I'm having a hard time motivating myself to make fun of you."

Bruce fixed Tony with an incredulous look, "I need time to sleep and eat."

The large golden retriever looked pensive for a second, as he considered the validity of sleeping and eating as adequate excuses. It had been a while since he'd last had a stable schedule of doing either but he had a vague memory of a past in which he ate at least twice a day and slept almost once every twenty hours. "Fine. Figure out how much time we need to waste on your human weaknesses." He ignored Bruce's indignant scoff. "We leave at first light tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I have a very important order of business that requires my immediate attention: your wall desperately needs to be peed on."

Bruce watched Tony pad out the door before dropping his head into his hands. Between saving Tony's life, trying to give him a bath, and arguing nonstop with him for the last three hours, Bruce was exhausted. The only truce they'd had all day was when hunger had forced them to take a dinner break. It was a miracle he hadn't strangled his new dog yet. He looked back at the complicated maps sprawled across his computer screen and decided against trying to decipher them. A bed sounded heavenly at the moment. God knew he needed all the rest he could get for the next three, maybe four days.

They did not leave at first light. Nor did they leave at the light after that. To make matters worse for Tony's pride, _he_ had been the one that overslept. He blamed it on not being used to having a canine circadian rhythm. His new body did not yet understand that it should require only six hours of sleep a week to function normally.

By the time Bruce set about to pack the bare essentials they needed for the trip, the sun was already high in the sky. After a colorful threat pertaining a muzzle and a chain, Tony decided to go wait on the car while Bruce finished making the preparations. He would never admit it but the ensuing silence scared him a little. Living in New York with a sparkling conversationalist of a housekeeping AI meant he was never without anything to at least talk _at_. Without the sound of his own voice to anchor him to reality, Tony felt indescribably...lost.

The conversation did not pick up after they set out, either. Bruce looked much too engrossed in driving to be healthy. The radio would have to do.

Turning on the radio with a paw was easy. The air abruptly filled with the obnoxious strains of heartbreak and acoustic guitars: signatures of hellish country music. Changing the station, however, required more accuracy than a paw could provide. Tony huffed after a few failed attempts and gave up. He could ask Bruce to change the station for him but he would knowingly drink poison before his pride let him do the two things he'd never had to do his whole life: ask for help, and be unable to use technology. The wilderness didn't provide that many radio stations anyways.

After almost a full hour of "he cheated" and "she cheated" and semi-poetic renditions of FML, it was a song about sitting on bleachers that pushed Tony over the edge. In his honored opinion, no self respecting man should ever have to listen to a girl sing about preferring sneakers over high heels. He was pretty sure that most girls wore t-shirts with short skirts anyways. For some unfathomable reason, being topless in public was frowned upon. He was still not going to ask for help, though, so there was only one thing left to say, "Dude, your taste in music sucks."

Bruce tightened his hold on the steering wheel a bit. "Uh-huh. I'm not going to tell you how much that hurts because I know you don't care-"

"It sucks so much that I can't even be sarcastic about how bad it is." Tony continued as if Bruce hadn't even been talking. Damn, he'd missed his gorgeous voice. "This is like the epitome of suck, the quintessential illustration of suckage. That didn't sound quite right, is suckage a word? Hmm." He paused to contemplate the reality of his new insult, "Regardless, this sucks so much that there isn't even anything sexual I can equate it with and that's saying something considering all the not so pleasant things I've-"

"Alright, alright, I don't want to know about your love life." Bruce interrupted before Tony could make him pull out the brain bleach, "I understand. Delicate emotions such as love and sympathy will never breach the steel walls around your lack of a heart."

Tony gave an exaggerated flinch, "Ouch, don't take it so personally. I'm just saying that there are better things in life to sing about than this generic unrequited love shit. If I were a girl and I liked some guy enough to write a crappy love song about how he should notice my t-shirt, I would just go to his place and take the damn shirt off. Boom, problem solved."

Bruce rolled his eyes. Despite his tough exterior, he was actually a rather sentimental person. Call him idealistic but he was willing to fight for his feelings. "You do realize that love isn't all about sex right?" Tony grinned that disturbing grin full of sharp teeth, "Never mind, don't answer that." Bruce ran his hand casually through his hair and for a moment, Tony thought the other man almost looked cool. Almost, and just for a moment.

"You'll never understand," Bruce continued, "but Taylor Swift- she understands me. Her music touches my soul."

Since driving required keeping one's eyes on the road to avoid squishing all forms of small wildlife, Bruce didn't look over at Tony until a full minute had passed without some sharp retort from the other man-dog-thing. By then Tony was half dead in his seat from comical asphyxiation and was still gasping with silent laughter. Bruce narrowed his eyes and turned up the volume until the truck shook with the twang of banjos.

Tony stopped laughing. "You are a jerk."

Much to Tony's dismay, the first place Bruce chose to stop was a pet shop. "Stay." Bruce had commanded before locking Tony in the car. Tony pressed his snout against the window and made sure to leave the largest smudge he could as he watched the pet shop door in apprehension. Pet shops sold all sorts of horrible things that vengeful girls often used in terrifying ways. Display fish look terrified for a reason.

Bruce emerged a few minutes later with a suspicious brown paper bag. The jerk even had the gall to climb back into the car, looking as though he had done nothing wrong. Tony pressed himself to the door in a futile attempt to put a bit of distance between him and certain disaster.

Bruce was grinning, "What? Don't look at me like that! I got you a present. Come here."

Tony scrambled away another inch. His premonitions of doom were proven correct when Bruce extracted a plain black dog collar from the bag. Tony growled, "No."

Bruce didn't look deterred or crestfallen in the least and calmly undid the collar. Then, quick as a viper, he reached over and grabbed Tony by the scruff, dragging him closer with an impressive feat of strength. Tony struggled audaciously but couldn't escape the iron head lock Bruce had him in. When Bruce finally did let him go, the collar was sitting snug in his fur, and Tony made a dramatic show of choking before turning away to sulk.

"Oh, be a man," Bruce laughed, ignoring Tony's scowl, "It can't be that bad."

"This is payback for the Taylor Swift thing isn't it?" Tony pawed at the synthetic material of the collar in distaste, "In that case, I'll have you know that your taste in accessories is just as bad as your musical preferences. This cheap piece of shit isn't even real leather. Take it off before I get a rash or something-does this tag say Fido?"

Bruce beamed and pat Tony affectionately on the head, "You promised to be the dog I never had; be glad I'm not the type to dress my dogs in pink sweaters. If you don't want to get picked up by a pound as a stray because you're not wearing a collar, then you'll keep that on."

Casting one last irritated glance at Bruce, Tony tried to save what few scraps of dignity he had left by staring out the windshield. "You are a monster."

Bruce laughed again.

There had to be a divine law somewhere that stated only one of them could be happy at a time.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki was beginning to feel desperate. He and Thor had flipped the entire state of New York upside down (literally in a few cases) in their search for Tony and so far: no results. He could not afford to have the idiot turn up now and ruin all his hard work.

Loki balled up the map in his hand in frustration, "Thor!"

"Yes, brother!"

"I'm getting a headache. Pull over and find a hotel for the night."

"Wonderful plan brother! This perpetual sitting has been wrinkling my best slacks."

Loki rolled his eyes at Thor's strange priorities and resisted the urge to facepalm.

As it turned out, there weren't very many luxury resorts along the edge of dark and mysterious highways so Loki had to settle for, God forbid, a motel. Loki curled his lip in disgust at faded patriotically painted doors and splintering walkways. Did ordinary people actually pay to stay in pigsties like this? Opening the door, Loki stepped unwittingly into a black puddle, the filthy water splashing over the fine leather and soaking the bottom of his pant leg. "I hate proletariat accommodations."

Thor, however, was already cheerfully headed toward the front desk to book a room and Loki's headache was pounding too hard for him to complain. The office was a dingy little place with a small dining area attached to it. Coffee and juice machines sat alongside empty pastry cases and a single cereal dispenser. A blond man in his late twenties was manning the front desk. He was well-built, handsome even, if a somewhat behind on the latest fashion. He snapped to attention at the sound of the door opening.

"Welcome to the All-American Motel, Steve Rogers speaking. How may I be of service to you sirs tonight?" the man practically barked at them. Loki winced as his migraine flared at the loud sound. Well, at least this Steve looked efficient.

"Friend, we have need of a room night, give us your best!" Of course Thor had no volume control either.

"I'm afraid we don't have one room that is better than all the others. We're all about equality opportunity in here and I personally do not like the idea of having one man standing above all others. We are in America, after all." Steve replied, nonplussed.

Thor blinked in surprise, his smile faltering, "I had not meant it like that, my friend. Please do not take offense."

Loki pressed his fingertips to his throbbing temples and left Thor to work out the details of their lodging. He snatched the room keys the moment they hit the counter, grimacing at how old fashioned they were. Who actually uses real _keys_anymore? Stalking out of the office without a backward glance, Loki left Thor to deal with their luggage as he headed up to their room to peaceably pass out.

The dimly lit room had two beds of the general motel variety, a few lamps and a chair. A thick black box with a curved glass screen sat on a flimsy table opposite the bed. Loki blinked at it. It had been many years since he'd last seen a TV like that.

Locating the remote, Loki turned on the archaic television and was pleasantly surprised to find that it still worked. A few minutes later, Thor stumbled in with five suitcases of varying sizes just as Loki flipped to a news channel called 'the Rutabaga'. Both men froze as the words 'Talking Demon Dog spotted in New Mexico' flashed across the bottom of the screen. Thor dropped the luggage as he and Loki jostled like five year olds for the spot closest to the tv. A well aimed kick sent Thor crashing onto the floor and Loki claimed his seat.

"...and now live from New Mexico where Nick Fury is standing with the witness that watched the whole terrifying ordeal."

A tall black man in full Matrix costume and an eyepatch filled the screen. "Thank you Jane." He rumbled into his microphone. "I have with me the poor creature who was very nearly a victim of the talking demon dog. What do you have to say about the experience?" The man, Nick Fury, directed his microphone at a squirrel sitting on his shoulder. Loki nearly screamed. The squirrel launched into a tirade of angry squeaks punctuated by animated acorn waving.

"Oh God, why me?" The ex-chief advisor threw himself down on the nearest bed, cursing his ill luck and satire news networks. Surprisingly, Thor didn't move from his perch on the ground.

"Brother, I must request that you do not make such loud exclamations. You misfortunes are great indeed but this squirrel has not had an easy life either. It would seem the talking dog possessed quite a profane vocabulary."

Loki sat up in a heartbeat, then instantly regretted it as the blood rushed out of his already abused brain. "What? You understand the squirrel?"

Thor nodded without taking his eyes from the screen. "You took measures to ensure that I had few companions during childhood. Talking to the city rodents was a pleasant alternative."

Loki rushed to join Thor on the ground, "And did this squirrel specify where Tony was?"

Another nod. "It seems to be at a biology research lab in the Santa Fe National Forest."

Thor jerked, startled, as Loki enveloped him in a quick hug. "You know what to do."

Thor grabbed his brother in return, glassy-eyed with happiness at the sudden display of affection. "Yes brother. Your facial creams and hair products are in the jade green bag. I shan't disturb you in the bathroom for the next two hours."

"That's not what I meant, you imbecile." Loki beat at Thor's thick arms to no avail. "We're going to New Mexico."

* * *

"Welcome to the Romanov's Fried Chicken home of the chicken fry. I'm your server Natasha. What will it be?" A bored but very pretty waitress glared Tony in a bored fashion. "Sir, we don't allow dogs in here."

Bruce surreptitiously nudged Tony in the ribs. Tony went to lay obediently under the table. "It s-should be alright. Fido here is a service dog." Tony scowled at the name, "I'm blind you see." Bruce tapped his dark glasses.

"Well bless you for still being a somewhat functional member of society." Natasha said emotionlessly.

Bruce looked down at the table with a blush. "W-would you happen to have a braille menu?"

"No."

"Oh, uh." Bruce fell silent and stared at Natasha. She was very pretty after all, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her even if he wasn't suppose to be able to see. Natasha's mask of perpetual boredom did not change.

A full thirty seconds passed like this before Tony tired of the the schoolboy crush clouding his breathing space. Twisting his neck, he not so gently bit Bruce on the ankle, relishing the man's yelp of pain.

"Ask for her recommendation." Tony hissed as quietly as he could.

"What?"

"You moron, don't look at me. Ask her for her recommendation on what's good here."

"Oh. Right." Bruce turned his face back to Natasha. "What would you suggest? If you don't mind me asking." he added quickly.

Natasha contemplated for a moment. "Everyone gets pretty much the same thing. I'll just get on of that for you."

Tony nudged Bruce in reminder before he could agree.

"If it's not too much trouble, could I have two servings?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Sure honeybun."

Bruce blushed harder than ever as Natasha turned to holler at the kitchen ("I need two heart attacks on a bun with extra curds and a meat shake.")

Tony couldn't help but whistle appreciatively as she walked away because, damn, you could serve coffee on that ass. Natasha looked back at them over her shoulder smirked. Bruce kicked Tony in the head.

Tony chuckled like a frenchman and earned another kick to the head.

"Stop that," the biologist whispered with something akin to panic in his voice.

"What?" Tony gingerly prodded his head, the second kick had his brain rattling inside his cranium cavity just a little bit, "That waitress has something _special _going on under that dress and you can't beat around the bush with hotties like that. You're tiptoeing big man; you need to strut."

Suddenly, Bruce was staring at him with a hopeful look on his face. Tony squirmed uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze. "What?"

"Do you think you could. You know."

It took Tony a second to understand what the other man wanted. "I am not doing any tricks to impress her, that is like sub-middle school." Bruce's disappointment was almost tangible.

A few minutes later, Natasha returned with two platters of unintelligible deep fried meat-some of which was far too dark to have come from the safe parts of whatever animal- covered in radioactively yellow goop the consistency of melted plastic. Next to that, she set a glass of something that resembled a milkshake doused in bacon grease. Bruce smiled awkwardly at her and stepped on Tony's muzzle before he could say something embarrassing. A few awkward thank yous later, Bruce finally let Tony up before digging into the food.

Tony stared at Bruce in horror as he shoved yellow goop into his mouth. "What are you doing?"

Bruce misinterpreted Tony's words and grabbed the second platter, placing it on the floor. Tony scooted backwards in disgust. He'd done his share of artery clogging in his life but it had always been expertly prepared and beautifully presented to mask its true nature. Being a billionaire meant you could shorten your life in style. "How can you eat this?", he clarified.

"You were the one who said we should eat fried chicken since we were in Kentucky." Bruce took another huge bite.

Tony shook his head at the plate, "And how exactly does this qualify?"

Bruce shrugged, "It still tastes like chicken."

"You thought those doughnuts we had yesterday tasted like chicken." Tony retorted. He took a tentative sniff at the plate and gagged. "Yeah, I can't eat this shit." He rose and walked out from under the table.

"Where're you going?" Bruce asked, a blob of yellow falling from his lips.

"I'm going to find a hot chick and use this flaming handsome puppy face of mine to beg some decent food." Tony called back before he slinked around the corner and out of sight.

It was just as well that he left when he did because as soon as he faded from view, two tall men- one blond, one raven haired- inserted themselves into the booth directly behind Bruce.

"Why is it so damnably difficult to find a talking dog?" The black haired one grumbled as he settled into his seat and began flipping through the menu. "They can't be _that_common."

Bruce perked up at the words 'talking dog' and turned to secretly glance into the other booth. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened as he caught sight of Loki and Thor. He may not be a rocket scientist like Tony but he was still a scientist and one look at Loki's "visage of glowing evil" (Tony's words, not his) erased his doubts that these two were indeed what Tony had described as his "fairy princess" and "walking cockblock of a brother complex."

"I agree, brother." Thor answered, eager to please.

"I should have just wrung his neck when I had the chance."

"Well spoken Brother. We might have avoided this predicament if you'd proceeded with your original plan to turn Anthony Stark into an insect and reduce him to a smudge on the bottom of your boot."

Bruce swallowed. The nature of his job made him a little slow to pick up on dangerous situations but he understood what he was hearing. Loki wasn't going to save Tony when they got back to New York; he would kill him. There weren't too many warm and fuzzy feelings flying between him and Tony as of yet but Bruce wasn't about to see his new dog turned into a smudge on the bottom of anyone's boot. If he didn't warn Tony, he would be just as guilty of murder as Loki and Thor would be.

"Don't they serve nothing edible on this menu?" Loki slammed his menu back on the table and stood, "I'm going to have a word with the chef."

Bruce made the mistake of turning around to look at Loki and accidentally catching Thor's eye. He turned back around immediately but it was too late. A large hand descended upon his shoulder.

"Friend, you seem familiar to mine eyes. Have we perhaps met before?"

Bruce swallowed, grateful for the dark glasses that obscured half of his face. "No I d-don't think we have."

"I do not believe it." Thor leaned in closer, "Mine memory has oft been praised for its accuracy and stunning longevity. Perhaps we cheered on the same squad in high school?"

Bruce couldn't help but pull a face. "No I don't think so." he said very truthfully.

"Culinary arts, two semesters. I was usually second stove to the left. I was scolded many times for keeping my beard. Friend, you must help me remember."

"No, I really don't think we've met." Bruce turned his face away, wiping at the sweat beading at his brow.

From elsewhere in the restaurant, a resounding "Thor!" sounded and Thor scrambled to answer the call. Bruce breathed a sigh of relief before starting a frantic search for Tony.  
True to his word, Bruce found Tony rolling around at the foot of a table full of pretty girls in the next room. A girl showing at least five inches of cleavage leaned over to feed Tony him a scrap of meat and squealed in delight when Tony nuzzled her cleavage with all his animal innocence. Bruce ran into a door frame.

He recovered in time to see Loki storm straight into his dog's line of sight. In a dash that would put the Africans to shame, Bruce tore into the room, picked Tony up like he was made of air, and ran out the restaurant before the dog could say anything stupid.

Once they were in the parking lot, Bruce ran around to the back of the restaurant where where he'd parked his truck. An empty parking slot awaited them.

"Fuck! God fucking damn it!" Bruce dropped Tony unceremoniously on the asphalt and ran to stand in the empty slot as if he couldn't quite believe what had happened. When he could no longer fool himself into thinking that his truck had been turned invisible, not stolen, he turned to punch a handicap sign off its pole. Reserving spots for people who probably shouldn't be driving was a stupid idea anyways. "I will _smash_whoever took my baby." He snarled as he picked up the fallen sign and ripped it to pieces with inhuman strength.

Tony rolled off the ground and shook the dust from his coat, amused at Bruce's predicament because he was an asshole like that. "Well, I must say, this has been a most unpleasant experience traveling with you but now that my princess and his loyal butler is here, I have been saved. Tata."

Bruce grabbed the leash that was still attached to Tony's collar before Tony ran back into the restaurant. "No! You don't understand! They're not trying to help you, they're trying to kill you! We have to get out of here before they see you!"

Tony laughed like a coyote, "That can't be true. Loki may be trying to take over my company but he'd never try to actually kill me. He's much too pretty to be a villain. No, actually, I take that back, he would make a crazy hot villain; leather suits him" Tony yanked the leash from Bruce's hands, "Now, I understand that you want to bathe in my golden aura for as long as possible so that you can feel important but I really don't need you anymore. Goodbye." He took a few steps back towards the restaurant and paused. "Oh and, I'm still blowing your lab to smithereens, if only to destroy the squirrel population. Good day."

Bruce watched in shock as Tony shook out his fur and walked away, only stopping to nonchalantly pee on a lamp post. The sight made his blood boil. "Fine! Go to your death! See if I care!"

Tony winced at the harsh words but didn't turn back. As long as they were useful, he didn't need anyone to _care_about him.

He was about to round the corner when the the door the restaurant was kicked open with enough force to dent the brick. A still apathetic Natasha strode out dragging both Loki and Thor by their collars. With an inspiring show of strength-what was with all the superhumans lately?- she threw both brothers a solid thirty feet, following up with a good "And don't come back again!"

Now, Tony Stark wasn't one to heed warnings but Bruce's words were still echoing in his ears, and he found himself shrinking back into the shadows at the sight of Loki's scowl. He watched, tense, as Loki pushed himself up and stood with his arms spread so that Thor could pat him off. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Tony shook his head at his own paranoia and prepared to give Thor a flying tackle hug. If it happened to knock him out of the picture where Loki was concerned, then so much the better.

"...I am going to kill Stark a thousand times when I catch him." Funny, that sounded suspiciously like Loki. Tony froze.

"I am eternally ashamed I confused your poisons, brother." Thor tenderly wiped a smear of dust from Loki's cheek. "It is my fault you are suffering like thus. I shall do all that is in my power to right this wrong and win back your favor. I promise you brother."

For once, Tony brain did not head straight to innuendo land at the Thor's questionable actions. His stomach flipped violently, threatening to dislodge what little he'd just eaten. Bruce was right. Bruce had been right all along and Tony, the moron of the century with flying colors, had just cut his own lifeline.

He bound, despondent, back to the empty parking spot, which was now devoid of Bruce as well as his truck. Why, hello there guilt; it's been awhile. And I see you've brought your friend despair. No, that's quite alright; just try not to be too loud in bed tonight.

The whole trip had been a slew of firsts for Tony and now he was alone for the first time in his life. There wasn't even anyone else for him to blame. Life was being horribly unfair, he decided as he ran in the direction of Bruce's scent. Life was being unfair but he was Tony fucking Stark and he _never_ played by someone else's rules. It was time to give the chaos a Stark personal touch, but before that, there was a first apology coming up in his near future.

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	6. Chapter 6

Scent tracking turned out to be much more difficult than literature ever portrayed it. For one, smell wasn't a straight path lined with neon lights and big 'this way' signs. It was more like directional fog: there, but by no means clear. To make matters worse, the city's smog was doing a damn good job of swallowing Bruce's delicate toxic chemical jasmine (with just a hint of b.o.) signature. Tony coughed as a passing car sprayed a cloud of gray exhaust into his sensitive nose. As he choked, he cursed the driver for letting the car fall into such disrepair and vowed to file a complaint later. There was no way that car could have passed any sort of emissions test.

Car exhaust aside, Tony's search led him through all manners of danger in the urban jungle. A few drunkards threw beer bottles at him for sport, crazy drivers tried to run him over at every intersection, cats (and kids) were malicious little bastards, tearing at his fur with their grubby paws and fingers. Driven by anger and betrayal, the billionaire was pleasantly surprised to discover that he could, in fact, stay focused on a task that didn't involve machinery of any kind. After the first time he was almost reduced to road kill, however, the prospect of giving Bruce a big loving bite on the ass for abandoning him became almost as tempting as getting revenge on Loki. Despite all the distractions, Tony kept pressed his nose to the concrete and tried his best to follow what he hoped was Bruce's trail.

Bruce could move fast when he was angry, Tony decided after two hours of fruitless searching. Granted, he'd lost at least half an hour when a lady's jasmine perfume had led him off track. (It wasn't until the trail led to a woman's bathroom that Tony had realized his mistake, and by then, backtracking was near _impossible.) _Meanwhile, Bruce's scent was becoming fainter and fainter every passing minute.

At the end of two tiring hours, the trail abruptly stopped at the edge of a sidewalk in the ghetto while the scientist himself was nowhere to be found. A taxi, Tony thought with dread as he sniffed the air in vain. Bruce must have gotten on some sort of motorized transportation, which meant there was no way to find him now.

The thought felt like a kick to the gut. The world's leading technological genius might as well get used to being a dog, because there was no way he could make it to New York and break into Loki's lab by himself. Might as well start responding to Fido now too. So that's why animals sound so sad when they whimpered.

Slowly, with his tail and head low, Tony trundled aimlessly through the streets until the only light came from dirty street lamps and exhaustion forced him to collapse in an alley. His stomach growled. The few scraps he'd begged for lunch had long since ceased to ease his hunger. Judging by the less than cordial treatment he'd received from the other restaurants he'd passed, he didn't have high hopes for any more of those either. What was a dog to do in a situation like this anyways?

A neighboring door opened and a begrudging child walked out dragging a large bag of trash. Tony wrinkled his nose at the smell. If worst came to worst, he supposed he could turn to trash cans. He let out a humorless snort. Tony Stark, billionaire extraordinaire, forced to forage through other people's garbage for sustenance. The irony was not lost on him. Just a week ago, he'd probably wasted enough food to feed an entire orphanage for a month.

Tony closed his eyes and willed sleep to come. In the absence of alcohol, it was the second best way to momentarily forget his troubles. True to his nature, the prospect of never being able to drink again made his eyes sting with tears the way impending starvation could never hope to. At least it wasn't raining.

He was about to slip into a dream involving a set of green jackets synchronize swimming in a pool of scotch, when loud shouts from the next alley over jarred him awake. Tony clamped his paws over his ears, determined in his annoyance to slip back into the dream. The crude shouting didn't stop. If anything, it got louder. Tony tried harder to go back to sleep. Sound always did travel faster than scent, so it took a few minutes for the scent of chemical jasmine b.o. hit Tony like a slap in the face. When it did though, sleep was the last thing on his mind.

Snippets of conversation drifted from the alley as Tony ran. Phrases like "Don't try to be clever. Hand it over before I cut you a new asshole." and a painfully familiar voice replying "You won't like me when I'm angry." were all Tony needed to hear to grasp the scenario. True to his stunning deductive capabilities, Tony arrived just in time to see the first of the gangsters launch themselves at Bruce.

Contrary to his expectations, however, Bruce needed no help to single handedly pulverize a group of five. The billionaire genius couldn't help but stare in awe as Bruce seized the men like rag dolls and threw them around as such. Before long, the alley was resonating with the music of heads hitting brick, groans of pain, and grunts of anger. Tony beamed with pride. Bruce wasn't as weak and useless as the front he'd put on. He would do just fine in the world on his own. It was almost touching.

A small movement from one of the downed men caught Tony's eye. For some inexplicable reason (completely unrelated to fear), Tony felt his blood run cold. "Bruce, watch out!" he barked before leaping at the gangster, sinking his teeth into the man's arm. The shot that was meant for Bruce ricocheted harmlessly off the wall as Bruce finished off the last standing gangsters with a bone crunching punch.

Tony was seeing red when he let go of the arm in his jaws. It wasn't because Bruce could have potentially gotten hurt or even died; of course not. He was snapping his jaws and spitting profanities like a machine gun because the whimpering dipshit on the ground had almost killed his ticket home. Nobody messed with him and his. _Nobody. _

The gangster was understandably terrified as he shuffled out from under Tony, and true to his nature, ran away without sparing a glance at his fallen companions. The others caught on when _Bruce_ snarled at them and they crawled or stumbled away as fast as they could. Tony took back everything he said about Bruce being weak; his companion was a force of nature.

But correcting past mistakes could wait until after their victory was properly celebrated. "Yeah that's right you prepubescent brats, fear the STARK! Whoooooooo!" Tony whirled around and did a little victory ditty. "Did you see that? That little shit was like 'I'm going to shoot Bruce' and I was like, fuck no not on my watch. And did you see that kid's face? I bet he's wetting his pants right now. Damn! Am I am awesome or am I _fucking_ awesome? Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh."

Bruce watched in amusement as Tony bobbed his head and did something that suspiciously close to a moonwalk. "You just saved my life."

Tony stopped in the middle of a twirl, "Oh, I did, didn't I." He grinned as the revelation sank in.

"That means you just did something nice for someone else and you're... ok with that?"

"Please, nobody's that heartless." Tony ignored the surprise on Bruce's face. "Besides," he stood tall and narrowed his eyes, suddenly somber. "A life for a life. My debt is repaid."

Bruce couldn't help but laugh. "Mulan? Really? That's the best you can do as a witty comeback? I overestimated you!"

Before Bruce could get too carried away, Tony head butt him squarely in the stomach.

"Yeah and now you owe me a damn good meal." the inventor snapped bitterly, pride stinging, "I want steak and I'll accept nothing lower than prime bloody beef."

After having the wind knocked out of him, Bruce was finding it a bit difficult to continue laughing but that didn't stop him from trying. "I knew there was some good in you." He smiled as he ruffled Tony's ears affectionately.

Tony pulled a face, "Don't get carried away now. That was a strictly one time thing. Now let's go before you get all pruny in your river of sentimentality or something."

"Heh, alright." Bruce bent and picked up the trailing end of the leash, "Lead the way noble steed!"

Tony silently deadpanned. Yeah, he could do that. Bruce must have been high on endorphins or something because he just kept laughing and did a disturbing imitation of riding a horse...with his pelvis. The rich inventor added riding lessons to his mental list of all the things he'd have to teach Bruce to make him an acceptable member of society.

They didn't get bloody steak that night, but as it turned out, convenience store hot dogs could taste pretty good when you were hungry enough. Tony would never admit it but Bruce's company may or may not have played a role to make the cheap food taste better.

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	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys, sorry for the late update |D *Makes up some bs excuse here* Enjoy!

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After the quick meal, the newly reunited duo set about to secure a new means of reaching their destination.

"I still don't think stealing is a good idea."

Tony turned to inspect a red sedan. "Then don't think of it as stealing." He sniffed at the tailpipe of the car. It would not do. If the smell was any indication, it'd been some time since the car had last seen any sort of maintenance.

"What am I supposed to think of it as? I'm not too familiar with premeditated crime but breaking into a stranger's car, hotwiring it, and driving it away without the owner's permission sounds a lot like stealing to me." Bruce shifted his eyes around the parking lot warily and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

A shiny sports car pulled into a nearby parking space. Bruce stiffened and turned away as a few young men in their early twenties spilled out of the car. Tony didn't spare them a glance.

"Loosen up would you Bruce? You're making us look guilty and we haven't even done anything yet." Tony moved on to a dark blue (or maybe black) Volvo. "Think of it as borrowing indefinitely without a contract; committing a minor wrong for the sake of major justice; shopping without a downpayment. Take your pick." Tony circled the car, checking for tell-tale signs of past accidents. He peered into the windows; the interior fully upgraded, leather, and fairly neat. Backing up a step, Tony gave the car a hard thump with his shoulder and was immensely satisfied when no alarm sounded. "Alright, let's take this one."

Bruce shuffled awkwardly but otherwise didn't move.

"Come Bruce, I don't have all day."

The bio-engineer walked over slowly "I just don't think we should do this. We're breaking the law."

"Well, that's never happened before." Tony said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'll be sure to properly lament this fall from grace with some decent alcohol in my stupidly luxurious penthouse once I'm human again. I can even make Jarvis scold me if that appeases your guilt. No, really Bruce. Work now, morals later... or maybe never."

Tony could see that Bruce was deeply conflicted. Tony knew that feeling well. He himself had often worn that expression when he was just minutes away from finishing an ingenious project but the pots of coffee he'd drunk intermittim were straining to be free. All it would take was one little push in either direction to make Bruce either decide to stick to his moral canons or start enjoying life (or for Tony to decide between sprinting olympics style to the bathroom or treating his legs to a warm shower. All for the sake of science, really.)

Tony put on his best pout. It was the kind of pout that could make Pepper drive halfway across town to get him a doughnut from his favorite bakery at 3:00 AM but not quite get in bed with him. It was the ideal mixture of _pity me,_ _I'm working so hard _and _you know that everything I do is for you _with just a tad of _because I'm your boss and you love me so much that you're still working for me even though your job sucks and you don't get paid nearly enough. _He wasn't sure how much of the message got lost in the translation between man to dog but it still seemed pretty effective. "Bruce," he started quietly, sadly "The magic thundering duo are going to kill me if they catch me and my only chance of ever being human again is if we get to New York before them. Please, you're the only one I can count on right now." He threw in a whimper for dramatic effect.

Tony cheered internally when Bruce scowled and reached for the door handle. "Fine, tell me how to do this and let's get out of here."

Five minutes later, the pair were tearing through a residential neighborhood at 60 mph on a mad dash for the highway.

"I'm proud of you Bruce." Tony grinned wolfishly from the passenger seat, "You made real progress today and I didn't even have to insult your manhood to get you to do it."

Bruce rolled his eyes but didn't bother suppressing his adrenaline induced smile. "I wouldn't get too used to it. Unless you're willing permanently induce whimpering into your vocabulary."

Tony resisted the urge to punch Bruce-or whatever the dog equivalent of punching was. Violent nuzzling?-because no matter self-destructive he may act, he really didn't wanted to die. By Loki's hand or violent collisions with mailboxes. "Must you always stomp on my triumphs?" The bitterness in his tone made Bruce laugh.

"Only for you sweetheart."

Tony and Bruce were well on their way out of Kentucky by the time Thor remembered where he'd met the "blind" man at fried chicken place with the batshit waitress. The sense of urgency that the revelation spawned was so great that Thor immediately roused himself, entangled himself hopelessly in his sheets, and rolled off the bed as an undignified bundle.

"Brother!" He whispered in a booming fashion. It was only polite that he didn't wake the guests in the neighboring rooms. It took a good deal of thrashing in the dark before Thor was finally rid of the offending sheets. He stood and grabbed Loki's shoulder, giving him a few firm shakes accompanied by another loud whisper. Loki's hand shot out from under the covers like a viper and twisted Thor's wrist painfully as an indication that he was awake.

Loki sat up slowly, the green face mask and cucumber slices on his face all but concealing his irate state. "What is it Thor?" he asked, voice cold and sharp as a knife. Thor gulped as the gravity peeled the cucumbers from his brother's eyes to reveal his frosty glare. "This had better be good."

Thor did his best to explain his revelation to Loki's green clad face without stuttering or generally screaming like a five year old girl. As much as he worshipped his brother's perfect skin, he had to admit that the cosmetics involved were more than a tad terrifying. Twenty minutes later, the brothers were racing down the highway at 30 miles above the speed limit in hopes that they would beat Team Stark back to New York.

After four hours of nonstop driving, speed and adrenaline were no longer enough to keep Bruce alert at the wheel. A near collision with a semi ("What do you mean you didn't see the fucking _semi_?") forced Tony to concede that Bruce did, in fact, need a few hours of sleep. Even in his stringent condition, Bruce had successfully resisted Tony's request to drive despite the other's adamant assertion that he could actually press the accelerator and look out the windshield at the same time. The argument had ended when Bruce fell asleep in the driver's seat in response to Tony's furious rebuttal that he was in fact 'a damnably good driver thank you very much'.

Hence, Tony blamed Bruce completely for the fact that Loki and Thor were able to catch up to them at the border of Pennsylvania and New York. Tony had been the first of all of them to realize that the annoying car that kept cutting in front of them - the laws of nature dictated that they had to cut the bastards back every time- was being piloted by Thor. Later, when Tony would reflect appreciatively on the improbability of the whole affair, he would realize that it was actually the man's viking facial hair that caught his attention. Unfortunately, Bruce had taken chosen that moment to accelerate past them, putting Tony straight into Loki's sight before he had a chance to duck down.

After that, it hadn't taken long for a full blown Grand-Theft-Auto-style car chase to develop. Once again, Bruce uncovered an unlikely but useful talent as he floored the accelerator and expertly swerved around cars going at least twenty miles per hour slower than them.

"That one was cutting it rather close don't you think?" Tony observed, deceptively calm, as they narrowly avoided clipping a truck with their back bumper. At the speed they were going, the slightest bump would probably send them flipping off the road.

"Hm." Bruce grunted in reply, giving all his attention to the road.

Tony his head out the window to check on Loki and Thor. The wind kept blowing his ears in front of his eyes but he could still tell that their pursuers were gaining on them.

"Would it be too much trouble to maybe go a bit faster? I mean, no pressure of course but if my eyes are to be believed, Loki and his unpaid incestuous henchman are catching up with us. I can't afford to be caught now, not after all the effort I've put into this trip." Tony said, ignoring the way Bruce's hands tightened around the steering wheel, "Loki's schemes are terrible for my complexion and I'd really like to have my inhuman good looks back sometime this lifetime. Well, I suppose that my good looks right now are rather inhuman but you know what I mea-"

An angry snarl from Bruce cut him off as the car zipped left through two lanes without a care for the cars behind or in front of them.

Tony looked back again. The little stunt Bruce pulled was reasonably effective in distancing them from Loki in a horizontal manner but judging by Loki's flushed face and rapidly moving lips, that lead wasn't going to last long. Tony opted for a mocking British accent for his next jibe. Bruce drove faster when he was emotionally invested. "My dear Bruce Banner," he began with a scandalized tone, "have a care for the poor souls sharing this road with us. You wouldn't want any of their deaths weighing on your bold and brazen conscience would you? Furthermore, I realize that logic is a bit out of your reach at the moment but the ancient noble tradition of elementary level maths clearly proves that-"

"SHUT UP STARK." Bruce roared as he changed lanes again to avoid rear-ending the car in front of them.

Even if he did feel somewhat miffed that he wasn't able to finish his insult, Tony wisely obeyed the order. His insults had had their intended effect, if the needle on the speedometer was any indication. At their speed, it was a miracle that they hadn't lost control of the car yet. Good old Swedish engineering.

He chanced another glance behind them. To his dismay, Thor had somehow kept up with their insane power-ups and the brothers were almost parallel with them in the lane beside them.

"Bruce-"

"Tony, I swear to whatever entity is watching this insanity, I will personally wring your neck and rip out your vocal chords if you say another word. If you're so worried about getting caught, you could try to do something about it."

Tony gulped, "Duly noted."

In the following silence, Tony was severely disappointed that car chases didn't allow for witty bantering between foes. In the time they'd spent driving, he'd rehearsed three full length eloquent heros speeches and a plethora of choice words for every part of Loki's anatomy. But between the roaring of engines, the wind, and the layers of glass between them, it seemed like his words would have to wait for a different time. Why couldn't he just direct the world?

Sighing dramatically at the lack of opportunity in the world, Tony sat back and proceeded to gather as much saliva in his mouth as he could. If his calculations were correct, the velocity of the car should carry whatever liquid at least the distance between them and Loki windshield. He doubted a spit bomb would actually do anything but just sitting in the car, even if they were going at a deadly speed, was boring and Tony Stark did questionable things when he was bored. After a few minutes of gathering spittle, Tony decided he had enough to make a sizable bomb that would be irritating if not actually damaging.

Sticking his head out the window, Tony opened his mouth and blew out with all the hot air he could muster. The clear bullet of dog slobber hurdled at Loki's car and splattered spectacularly against the glass. To his surprise, the attack was super effective. Tony stared in shock as Thor veered and sent the car crashing through the banisters lining the highway.

Bruce's breath hitched as he watched the accident through the rearview mirror. Tony swallowed, dread pooling in his stomach. He shook the feeling off; it was just a wonderful incarnation of karma. Besides, it would take more than that to stop his brilliant ex-advisor. "Bruce. I think we can slow down now."

Bruce nodded and eased his foot off the accelerator, bringing them back down to a normal speed. Neither of them spoke for a while.

"They'll be okay right?" Bruce choked out after he'd gathered his wits.

"Yeah. I'm sure they're fine." Tony couldn't let himself think otherwise. "Thor is a rock and Loki is a lot tougher than he looks. I'm also 99% sure that Loki embezzled company funds to buy himself an armored car anyways."

Bruce nodded but didn't visibly relax. "I suppose we can worry about it after we change you back."

"Wow, Bruce Banner." The billionare whistled long and high, "I must be a really good influence if you can say something like that in this situation."

Bruce took a hand off the steering wheel and patted Tony's head heavily in warning. "No seriously Stark. Shut up."

"Fine, fine. I understand. Nobody likes my _deep sexy_voice anymore." Tony ducked to slip out from under Bruce's hand, "I'll shut up and let you brood for the rest of the trip...well, as long as we don't listen to anymore Taylor Swift because that chick just really-"

"Tony."

"Right, shutting up."

They listened to heavy rock music for the rest of the trip back to the city. Tony howled along to every song while Bruce grit his teeth and bore it.

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	8. Chapter 8

Wow, the end has finally come! Thanks to everyone that has stuck with this piece of crack!

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Three speeding tickets later, Bruce and Tony finally pulled over in front of Loki's house. A solitary raincloud was raining on the dark suspicious structure. Neither scientist wanted to understand how that was possible.

Tony gathered his courage first. "No use standing here gawking at it. Let's go in." The unnatural rain felt like little drops of ice as it hit his back but the two of them made it to the front door unscathed. As expected, the door was locked, but with Tony's expertise at picking locks, that was not a problem.

"You have a natural penchant for law breaking don't you?" Bruce whispered as the door creaked open.

"Yeah, well, I have a reputation to keep."

The pair cautiously ventured into the dark house, propping a shoe in the doorway to make sure the door did not close behind them. "Besides, laws don't mean much when you're painfully rich and perpetually bored. I made my fortune inventing machines for people to break the law with."

Bruce found the light switch and was thoroughly disappointed at how mundane the inside of the house looked. Tony nudged him sympathetically, "Sorry bro, I feel your pain. This way the smell of batshit comes. Follow me."

Not a minute later, the two were sprawled in a less than artistic heap on the floor of the basement. Tony cursed the architect of the house to hell for not putting the light switch at the top of the stairs. He then told Bruce in stylized Tony-Stark-speak to lay off the doughnuts. As revenge, Bruce purposefully took longer than necessary to get up, making sure to squish every sensitive part of Tony's anatomy in the process. A bit of groping around later, they found the light switch.

"What the hell? Dead rabbits? Animals are not an acceptable form of interior decorating, _ever_. Loki should have had better taste than _that_."

Bruce responded with the incredulous eyebrow that he'd perfected halfway during their relationship. It wrinkled his forehead in a somewhat worrying fashion. If he kept that up, he'd have some fucking odd wrinkles in the near future. "Tony, I don't think those rabbits are decoration." Tony made sure to step on both of the man's feet as he turned to venture further into the lab.

It didn't take too long to find the cabinet of finished potions. All of the potions were green, which would have been if a problem if Loki had not taped pictorial labels under every bottle. Bruce couldn't help but feel a little in awe of the villain's work. As a biologist, he could appreciate the miracle of what the man had accomplished, even if the implications were a bit terrifying. Tony broke him out of his reverie with all his usual subtlety.

"Dude, no way. Did Loki seriously make a powerpuff girl? I am so going to make him drink that later." Tony stumbled back to cackle in peace.

Bruce bent to lovingly inspect the glowering printout of Buttercup taped beneath a bottle of indiscernible green liquid. He couldn't help but feel that he and Loki would have made great friends under different circumstances because no, he definitely had never dreamed of being a powerpuff girl. Really, he didn't have Buttercup hug pillows stowed in his closet. He just really liked the color green.

Tony's mirth vanished completely when they discovered that the human slot was empty.

"Oh my, looking for this?" A smooth voice practically purred from behind them.

Tony and Bruce whirled around as Loki emerged dramatically out of the shadows wearing a green v-neck sweater and a pair of pressed black slacks that hugged his hips like a second skin. In one hand, he held a small vial of green liquid identical in shade to the ones in the closet; the other hand was propped on his hip because yeah, he was a full-tilt diva.

Despite the circumstances, Tony couldn't help but let out a slow wolf whistle. "I'm not going to ask how you got here before us but _baby just say yes." _

The victorious smirk melted off Loki's face to be replaced with irritation. "You are hopeless."

"Hopelessly in love, sweet cheeks." Tony narrowed his eyes in a smolder that would have any vampire crying in jealousy.

"Anthony Stark, I must ask that you refrain from using bad country pick up lines on my brother. He is not a maiden to be wooed." Thor stepped out of the shadows to wrap an arm protectively-or maybe possessively, you never could tell with Thor- around Loki's shoulders.

"Yes, Thor, state the obvious." Loki shrugged the arm off, ignoring the expression of hurt on the larger man's face. "Now, let's get back to business." The feral grin that broke out on his face was, for lack of a better word, _frightening_.

"Wait- I get that you want the company and I admit that I haven't always treated you right but you aren't really going to kill me, are you? Is this because I called you predictable because I take that back. I never expected to be turned into a dog. You can have your job back if you want; we could be partners, even. You're really very smart." Tony rambled at Loki's hips, more than a little apprehensive.

Loki smirked. "Please Stark, my eyes are up here. Don't think of it as killing. Think of it as you're being let go; you're no longer needed; we decided not to choose your clever but impossible option. Thor don't say anything, I'm being ironic. Anyways." From under his sweater, Loki extracted a wicked knife which he threw, point first, at Thor. He felt a twinge of genuine disappointment when Thor managed to catch it. "Finish them off."

Everyone in the room re-directed their attention at the blond giant who stood staring at the blade, indecision written all over his face. Loki let out an aggravated sigh. "Thor. You have one job. _One. _You need more motivation; fine, I'll give you motivation. That thing there, Anthony Stark, grabbed my privates when I had my interview with Stark Industries."

"What?" Tony sputtered with indignation, "That is a complete and utter lie. I admit I thought about it but I did no such thing."

But alas, Tony's protests fell on deaf ears as Thor the not-so-gentle giant advanced towards him, knife raised, a maniacal glint in his eye. Hell hath no fury worst than an over protective brother scorned.

Bruce made his presence known then when he lunged at Thor, "You go on ahead, I'll take care of this one." He called back at Tony as he tried to wrest the knife from Thor's hand.

"I appreciate your attempt to be the cool hero but we've technically already arrived at our destination." Tony winced as Bruce landed a hard punch on Thor's washboard abs. "But I get what you mean."

Focusing on the small vial in Loki's hand, Tony did a few quick mental calculations about launch angles and departing velocity before running precisely 3.56 steps and leaping at Loki. His calculations were dead on and he would have snatched the potion had the green-obsessed man not sidestepped the attack. As with most of Tony's plans, he failed to take into account the consequences which, in this case, resulted in him crashing head on into a table. Broken glass and chemicals rained down over his head, seeping into his fur. A few drops made it into his open mouth and Tony swallowed on reflex.

Immediately, the inventor could feel his skin tighten as his bones began to _stretch_. The soft pads of his paws hardened and split into hooves. He watched in horror as his shoulders suddenly became much too far away from his head. None of it was painful but the whole ordeal was downright _disconcerting_.

Tony bore his transformation into a full-fledged llama in silence. Stepping out of the wreckage with as much dignity as possible, he schooled his elongated face into his signature I-am-so-pissed-off-that-I-don't-even-have-an-expression face and glowered at the room. "Don't. Say. Anything."

"Okay." came the collective reply.

Loki was the first to recover from shock. He fell forward into an impressive somersault, grabbed a long splinter of glass from the floor, and rolled up to assault Tony's long neck without missing a beat. Luckily, Tony able to parry the blow with a hoof, striking Loki's wrist hard with the hard appendage before rearing onto his hind legs to strike at the man's head.

And thus, the fighting continued, with both parties taking and landing blows. Eventually, however, Thor was able to pin Bruce to the floor while Loki successfully trapped Tony under a pile of collapsed lab equipment. Loki giggled and clapped his hands together in glee. "I win." Wow, was that high pitched squeak his voice? He cleared his throat several times to return his voice to its normal octave. "Now finish that scum off, Thor, while I take care of our _guest_."

"Brother, no."

Everyone in the room froze at Thor's declaration.

"What did you say?" Loki's whispered dangerously.

"Stop this madness brother. You give up this poisonous dream before you do something that cannot be undone! Please Loki, see reason before it is too late." Thor released his hold on Bruce and stood up. "Ever since we were children, I have indulged your every whim and borne the brunt of your anger because I love you but this is going too far. I cannot condone cold blooded murder, even it means losing you."

Loki backed up, eyes wide with alarm, as Thor walked towards him. The younger resisted fiercely as Thor tried to pry the potion from his hands. "Thor, I am warning you. Do this and I will never speak to you again."

"I predicted your reaction would be such and I accept this punishment. Please accept my sincere apology for failing you thus far." With one final wrench, Thor broke Loki's hold on the glass vial.

"You're betraying me." It was not a question.

"I am sorry brother." The raven haired man ducked away from Thor's attempt to embrace him.

"Don't you dare call me that again." Loki spat as he walked out of the room.

Bruce had taken the chance to clear the heaviest bits of rubble off of Tony and the llama struggled to his feet gratefully. The pair watched cautiously as Thor offered the glass vial. There was always the chance that the visibly heartbroken blond would smash it as one big final fuck you. Tony didn't relax until the potion was safe in Bruce's hands.

"You know Thor, I misjudged you. If you ever need a place to crash now that Loki's kicked you out, I am more than happy to offer my place."

Thor smiled, a bitter curve of the lips, "I will keep your offer in mind Anthony Stark. At the present moment, however, I think it will be best if I am alone for a while. There is much for me to think about."

Tony nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Do not speak as though he were dead. I did what I needed to so that he would not fall into the darkness and now, I willingly pay the cost. Drink your potion Anthony. Be a man."

"Must be swift as a coursing river right? I'd better drink this before something else happens. Thank you big man. Both of you." Tony looked at the now uncorked vial of in Bruce's hand. "Bon appetite."

* * *

"Sir. This is your 8:30 AM alarm. Mr. Banner will arrive in fifteen minutes as scheduled. Would you like music?"

Tony clapped a hand over his eyes to block out the sudden brightness of the room. Jarvis, for all his manners, was one sadistic bastard for opening the blinds on a hungover man. But hangovers be damned, he supposed this was the one day when he actually couldn't be late. "No music Jarvis, but if you could whip up black coffee, that'd be great."

"Very well sir."

The feel of expensive Egyptian linen was so familiar under his hands that, for a moment, Tony wondered if the week he'd spent as a literal party animal had been nothing more than a long nightmare. The sight of the plain black collar on the bedside table dispelled that delusion. He got to his feet; today was an important day.

Tony pondered the silence as he headed towards his closet. It had been a long time since he'd performed his morning routine without the accompaniment of electric guitars but he was a changed man.

Well, as changed as he was willing to be anyways. The party last night had proven that there were just some things about Tony Stark that just could not change. Pole dancing was deceptively difficult; strippers deserved to be paid more. He froze at the sight of a tasteful, if somewhat flashy, red and gold shirt hung on the door of the closet, a pair of faded jeans to go with it. "Jarvis, did Pepper come in without telling me again?"

"No sir. I took the liberty of selecting this attire. I've come to notice that your preferences in clothing is always impaired after your blood alcohol content the previous night is higher than 0.50%. Your BAC was 0.57% last night, if you were wondering." Jarvis said in his usual unfazed voice.

Tony stared at his ceiling for a bit, unsure of whether he should be more concerned that his AI was criticizing his fashion sense or that it was running breathalyzer tests on him in his sleep. "Up yours Jarvis, you are one creepy fuck."

"I will add designing an arse for me to your list of to dos."

Tony scoffed as he began getting dressed. "That's one sense of humor you've got there."

"Thank you sir. I learned from the best." Jarvis sounded altogether too pleased for Tony to feel safe.

Fifteen minutes later, Tony was stepping out of the elevator into the ground level lobby. He easily spied Bruce in his glorious rumpled green regalia and headed over with a welcoming smile on his face. Bruce was casting nervous glances at the marble decorations in the room, a clear sign he'd rarely, if ever, seen such luxury.

"Ah, Bruce, do relax. The receptionist doesn't bite." Tony snaked a reassuring arm around his friend's shoulders before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Though, she is very adept at sucking." Tony laughed as Bruce flushed a bright red and proceeded to guide him towards the elevator.

"Would it kill you not to be so vulgar all the time? You should try respecting women once in your life." Bruce scolded.

Tony pressed the button for the correct floor. "But where's the fun in that?" He said while fixing his hair in the reflective wall of the elevator.

Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. "Loki was right, you are hopeless."

"No darling," the playboy inventor turned up the brightness of his smile a few notches, "I'm fabulous."

The elevator dinged and opened on a dimly lit corridor. "Well anyways Bruce, I've decided not to blow up your dinky lab after all. The psychos that live there might be tempted to move somewhere with people if I destroy their little hole. The safety of the masses has always been of the utmost priority for me. But," Tony cut Bruce off before he could start to argue, "I'm willing to be even more generous than that. This trip has shown that you are severely lack in social competency of any kind and I'm taking it upon myself to fix that."

Tony stopped abruptly and Bruce nearly tripped to avoid running into him. "However, I can't do that if you're in New Mexico so from now on, this," Tony gestured grandly at the sparkling new lab behind the glass wall, "will be your new workplace for everything that's not radioactive, though I can't understand why you'd be experimenting with that stuff anyways. I'm next door, by the way, so don't go making any alien life forms. You can thank me now."

Bruce's eyes were nearly bulging out of his head as he pressed his face to the glass. The equipment before him was all state of the art. Damn, it could even be considered avant-garde state of the art. He could feel himself drooling_. _

Tony gently peeled Bruce's face off the transparent wall, frowning somewhat at the oil smudge. "Alright, Bruce, back up. I've already taught you how to make an entrance. Let's see how well you remember." Bruce snapped his eyes back into his head and grinned to the affirmative. Tony punched the security code into Bruce's door before running to punch it into his own. "On my mark now, ready, set..."

Both men round house kicked door open like a set of swagging Bruce Lees. "Boom Baby!"

In the years that followed, the bio-scientist and the engineer created many intimidating inventions. Tony built himself a flying titanium alloy suit so that he could explode things in an up close and personal manner. As for Bruce, a fortunate gamma radiation accident allowed him to finally become the powerpuff girl he'd always dreamed of being. Well, sorta. The two unlikely friends decided to use their new powers to clear the city of crime and schwarma and they lived happily ever after. The end.

* * *

and it's over. There will be an epilogue for Thor and Loki, but until then, goodbye! Please review~


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